Anomaly

Chapter 391 – Worship of the true gods [37]

Even though I was confused about my Alter Ego, mainly because he seemed strangely sulky, I wasn’t nearly interested enough to actually care. At the end of the day, as far as I understood, the two of us were, in a way, the same being.

That allowed me to pick up, even if only vaguely and on a surface level, the reasons behind his bad mood. Very surface-level, actually... because apparently, he was irritated enough to deliberately keep his thoughts hidden from me. Seriously, what did he expect?

It wasn’t my fault he had barely shown up so far. He was the one who decided to lock himself away somewhere in my own mind, like he was going on strike from existing. How exactly was I supposed to deal with that? Knock on an imaginary door and politely ask him to come out? Or maybe leave some kind of “bait” I don’t know, a provocative thought or something eye-catching, just to see if he’d take it and show himself?

... Yeah, no. Now that I think about it, this feels like one of those absurd situations that only exist to give you a headache. So, with all due respect, I’d rather just set this aside for now. If he wants to show up, he can do it on his own.

“Well, look at that!” I started, lifting my chin slightly as I forced my voice to sound firm, and above all, friendly. The priest raised an eyebrow just a little. Great... I had his attention. Now, whether it was curious attention or just the prelude to something violent... well, that was a different story.

I took a breath internally, feeling the tension build in my shoulders, but kept going anyway: “Before you... I don’t know... try to kill me by dropping a car on top of me, or throwing me through a wall...” I made a vague gesture with my hand, as if that were a perfectly normal thing to bring up: “... how about we try talking? Work out our differences like civilized people?”

For a brief moment, the silence felt heavy. Even I could hear how absurd that proposal sounded. Still, I took a deep breath and added, trying to hold on to what little credibility I had left: “I mean... you don’t seem like the kind of person who’d want to drag innocent civilians into something like this. Right?”

The truth? I had no idea what I was saying. The words just... came out. Like my mouth had decided to act on its own while the rest of me sat back and watched, waiting for the inevitable disaster. Beside me, my Alter Ego let out a low, clearly exasperated huff. And honestly? I couldn’t blame him.

The priest raised his eyebrow again at my words. It was a subtle movement, almost imperceptible, but loaded with judgment. He didn’t say anything right away, and yet, I knew. I had seen that reaction too many times to be mistaken: silence before rejection, hesitation before imposition. And, as always, I was right.

As if fate itself were nodding indifferently in agreement with my suspicion, the priest finally spoke: “I believe that won’t be possible, miss”

His voice came out steady, controlled. There was no doubt there, no room for debate, just conviction. His fingers tightened slightly against the fabric of his own robe, as if grounding himself in his faith: “I am being tested by the divinities. I must prove my worth to them”

For a brief moment, his eyes passed over me and my Alter Ego, evaluating, weighing, judging: “You... seem to have received their blessings to some extent...”

The priest’s face hardened. His jaw tightened, and something darker surfaced in his expression. Irritation. Maybe even resentment.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, as if the next words were harder to accept than to say: “I do not understand why the divinities would choose to share their gifts with others besides me...” his voice dropped slightly, carrying a bitter rigidity: “But my mission is clear”

He spread his arms wide in an exaggerated, theatrical motion, as if standing before an invisible stage. His eyes, as always, carried that sickly gleam, a disturbing mix of fervor and greed, like someone who had completely lost the line between faith and obsession.

Around us, the bystanders were no longer hiding their confusion. Some had stopped in their tracks, others instinctively gathered, forming an uneven circle around the scene. Their eyes were fixed on the floating priest, caught between fear, curiosity, and a kind of hypnotic shock.

Most still had their phones raised, recording every second, hands slightly trembling, whispered voices being captured along with the footage. But a significant number had already started backing away. One step. Then another.

Some quickly put their phones away, as if, deep down, they understood this had crossed the line from “unbelievable” straight into dangerous territory. A few even grabbed someone else’s arm, quietly pulling them away while keeping their eyes glued to the scene, unable to simply turn their backs on it.

As for me... I didn’t pay much attention to the phones. Even with all the potential trouble that could come from that later, there was a small comfort in it. Every recording, every angle captured, every witness present... all of it would serve as proof.

Proof that I wasn’t trying to kill anyone. Proof that, despite everything, I wasn’t the monster they were probably already starting to imagine. Even if I was... an anomaly.

Finally, I let out a quiet sigh, more an exhale of pure exhaustion and exasperation with my current situation than anything else. When I turned my attention back to the priest, I noticed he still held that same strangely delirious expression, his eyes slightly glassy, as if he were seeing something beyond the reality around us.

That being said, I had no idea what he might do next. His unpredictability was almost as unsettling as his apparent conviction. After all, I barely understood the true extent of my sisters’ powers, their capabilities went far beyond anything I had already witnessed, and yet, that man stood there, manipulating fragments of those gifts as if they were rightfully his.

Even if what he showed was, in the grand scheme of things, no more than a grain of sand drifting through the lonely vacuum of the universe... it was still something significant. Especially when you considered what they were truly capable of, and how dangerous someone could be if they managed, even slightly, to tap into that kind of power.

“So... I guess we’re not reaching a peaceful agreement?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay as neutral as possible.

The priest slowly shook his head. For a brief moment, his eyes faltered, as if weighed down by something unseen. Still, when he looked back at me, there was resolve in his gaze: “I’m afraid not”

The silence that followed stretched longer than it should have, filled only by the distant sound of the wind: “At least I tried...” I murmured, low enough that no one else could hear.

Or at least, that’s what I would’ve liked to believe. The sudden rush of air beside me said otherwise. Subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but unmistakable to me. My Alter Ego was there... attentive, as always, sharing every fragment of my thoughts without asking permission.

I let out a restrained sigh. Not that there was anything I could do about it. No more words were exchanged between me and the priest. The silence that followed wasn’t natural, it was heavy, dense. Then, without warning, the air around him rippled.

At first, it was subtle, like heat distorting the horizon... then violent, expanding into visible layers, as if something invisible was being stretched beyond its limit. And I saw them. The concepts surrounding him.

They weren’t fixed shapes, nor something that could be precisely described, they were presences. Fragments of reality, distorted and unstable, all of them... reacting. Twisting. Resisting. Uncomfortable. Trapped. Forced to obey something they clearly weren’t meant to.

I still didn’t fully understand what concepts were, or how far their capabilities extended... but my instincts were working just fine. And right now, they were screaming in unison. This was bad. Really bad. Still, there was no time to dwell on it. My gaze shifted for a brief moment, and that was enough to spot the real immediate problem.

Several vehicles were heading straight toward me. Not falling. Flying. Ripped off the ground like discarded toys, spinning chaotically through the air, carrying chunks of asphalt, shattered glass, and the distant echo of screams. Some still had people inside.

Others were about to crash into those below. I sighed, already feeling the headache this was going to give me. Between facing a lunatic priest who distorts concepts... and stopping an immediate massacre... That wasn’t even a choice.

“Great...” I muttered, running a hand over my face as I prepared to act. After all... I don’t think my face splashed across the news, surrounded by human bodies, would go over very well.

***

(POV – Laura Cavendish)

Laura was still trying to make sense of her current situation. Her mind felt sluggish, as if submerged in a dense fog, unable to properly organize her thoughts. All she knew, or rather, all she could say with absolute certainty, was that just seconds ago, she had died. She felt it.

It wasn’t a guess or some irrational fear. It was real. Raw. Inevitable. And she was certain her boss and best friend, Emily, had felt it too. But now... now she was alive.

The air still burned slightly in her lungs, as if her body was relearning how to breathe. Her fingers trembled almost imperceptibly, and her heart raced, as if trying to make up for the time it had simply stopped.

On the ground, dark red blood remained, spread unevenly, forming stains that were already beginning to dry. It was the only concrete proof that this hadn’t been some shared delusion, that Laura and Emily hadn’t simply lost their minds.

They had died. And somehow, they had come back. Even so, that realization didn’t make things any less disturbing, quite the opposite. Of course, Laura didn’t want to die. Especially not like that. Not in such an absurd and grotesque way, at the hands of a completely insane priest.

Even so... she felt grateful. Grateful to be breathing. To still be here. But at the same time, a quiet unease settled in her chest. Because deep down... she had no idea what to think about any of this. As if things weren’t strange enough already, there was still one more detail:

The [Angel of Death], the one who had undoubtedly saved them somehow, was now somewhere unknown, alongside that lunatic priest. What made it even more absurd was how simple everything had been at the start. They had only gone out to investigate what seemed to be an unhinged man, a priest who spoke about anomalies as if they were divine entities.

Nothing more than another eccentric case... Or at least, that’s what it had seemed like at the time. So when, exactly, had things spiraled completely out of control? Laura frowned slightly, her thoughts tangling as she tried to piece everything together.

Maybe the strangest part wasn’t the direction things had taken... But the fact that, deep down, she hadn’t considered this possibility from the beginning. She let out a nearly inaudible sigh, feeling a faint tightness in her chest as she tried to organize her thoughts. She needed to understand.

She needed to find some kind of logic, even the smallest trace of it, in this growing chaos. Beside her, Emily stared straight ahead, her lips pressed tightly together, a clear sign that her mind was also working at full speed. There was no need to say anything. They were both thinking the exact same thing.